O brother, where art thou?
by Picknicks are rarely picknicks
Summary: Whose are these? ... Edwards? Hey Edward! Are these your marbles? So you finally lost 'em, huh? Well, had to happen some time.
1. Calling all morons

**From: **Cullenary_Delight _(SadWard17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_**  
To: **ALineedICE_JAZZ _(Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_**  
****Sent: **Saturday january 14 2006 22:43:25

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**Subject: **The ravings of a lost creature of the night

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Dear Alice,

Forgive me for not answering any of your letters before. My only excuse is that I am troubled. Finding Victoria is proving to be no mean feat. How long has it been? I can't remember. Sometimes it seems as though an eternity has passed since I last saw her beautiful face, kissed her soft lips and held her to me, while at the same time it feels as if it were only yesterday. I am haunted by the memory of her, yet, an ever-growing part of me is starting to doubt if she was ever real to begin with.

Do not tell me I have been dreaming it all up, for I have all but forgotten the meaning of the word. Also, I am quite confident that in order to dream, one is required to sleep. However I have not verified this so I can not be certain. As a matter of fact, I am certain of only one thing these days; Without her my existence is pure and unbridled torment. Was she ever real to begin with, or is the memory of her merely a cruel fantasy?

Please excuse me, my 'infallible' memory seems to be getting less so, with each day that passes. Allow me to explain.

Yesterday I found myself in a clearing of sorts -'_au natural'_- clinging to an innocent poor soul's warm body for dear life, muttering her name under my breath. Almost like a mantra I lay there, repeating her beautiful name to myself over and over and over again. Of course I had to make a brisk exit when I finally regained my senses.

Speaking of this, uhm, '_episode_', actually brings me to the reason I seek your help today. You see, I was wondering; Since I myself do not seem to have any recollection of how this particular situation came to be… perhaps _you_, do? I dare hope that a vision regarding the matter has befallen you.

Urgently awaiting your response,

Edward

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**From: **ALineedICE_JAZZ (_Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)  
_**To: **Cullenary_Delight _(SadWard17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)  
_**Sent: **Saturday january 14 2006 23:24:25

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**Subject: **Calling all Morons

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Dear basket case,

As a matter of fact, _yes_. I know all too well how that little episode '_came to be'_. I'll spare you the details but it involved you, trying to feed from a rubber chicken, only after you tried to order –and I quote- _take-out_, in a pet-store.

_Allow me to explain._

You're mad, bonkers, off your head. And although _'__but Alice, all the best people are__'_ may seem like a witty response to this, rest assured that in this case, it isn't.

Not even close.

So the sooner you get this poppycock over with, the better. You'll return to Forks eventually, anyway. I should know, right? Delaying your return will only serve to make both you and Bella even more miserable than you already are. The girl is not doing too good herself in case you were wondering. I'll spare you the embarassing details for now but let's just say that you are not the only one hugging things you shouldn't be, ok? I wasn't purposely looking for it, I swear, but yesterday I had a vision of Bella, talking to an ice-pack. Edward, she has a face painted on it and everything! I'm no couldn't make this up even if I tried.

She's losing her marbles, fast. So unless you want to come back to a straight-jacket you should:

1) Hunt. Because Edward, if you don't, come tomorrow you'll be having something that looks suspiciously like a chinchilla -a chinchilla that has been dead for a considerable while- for dinner.

2) Come. Home. Now.

3) Don't even think about wearing those clothes out in public ever again. Burn them. Burn them now, or the Volvo gets it.

Alice

P.S. Drop the whole Mr. Darcy- act. You died at the time of the Spanish Influenza, not the Spanish inquisition. For goodness sake.

Oh and P.P.S That wasn't 'a poor soul's warm body', it was a thermos. But I guess I should thank you for making my point.

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_****__Disclaimer: __Nothing twilight-related is mine, at all. Not even the sparkles. I do own any and all __speling mitsakes_.  
_**AN:**__ Nice to see you've made it all the way down here! Review, and thou shalt be replied to._


	2. I will suckseed

**Thanks to little . ella for being my first reviewer and to the rest of you for the alerts and fav's. Here's chapter two!**

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**From: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)  
_**To: **ALineedICE_JAZZ _(Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)  
_**Sent:** Sunday january 15 2006 20:36:22

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**Subject: **I will succeed!

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Dear Alice,

Bella Miserable? Humbug.

I know that you believe my leaving Forks to be an act of stupidity. But I know it was the only right thing for me to do. For Bella. Also, never think that I am not aware that (for you especially) leaving Forks when we did was not without repugnance. So for agreeing to leave with me despite your obvious reluctance, I will forever be indebted to you. For what it's worth I try to do a good job of tormenting myself for it. Although I realise that no amount of self-flaggelation will ever suffice. Not after I almost lured an angel into eternal damnation.

However, and I feel rather strongly about this, '_Idiot_' is not a word one should bandy about carelessly. I am still your brother and in dire need of your help, as your last e-mail so clearly demonstrated. I uhm, I am truly sorry you had to see all of that, albeit through a second-hand vision. I did mu best, but try as I might I can not remember the rubber chicken incident. But perhaps that is a thing to be grateful for. I do trust that I can count on your discretion towards the rest of the family.

About my current situation, I'm afraid things took a turn for the worse since we 'spoke' yesterday. Although you may be glad to hear that it was no chinchilla, but in fact a guinea pig. Instinct took over I guess. But,judging by the number of insect larve I doubt it had been dead for _that_ long, so really there was no need for you to worry. Granted, the experience did convince me to go and hunt again.

On a happier note, did you mean to tell me that my Bella has found solace in speaking to an ice-pack?

My darling Bella… (The mere act of typing her name brings with it sweet torment) O, how I long to be that Ice-pack. And she gave it a face, you say? Tell me, does it resemble me at all?

But no! I can not allow myself to even think such thoughts. Why o why must you tempt me, so? My dear sister, I know you only say these things in an attempt to lift my spirit. I can tell you it's to no avail, for I know very well that Bella's desire to be with me was never more than an illusion. A deception of the senses brought about by nothing other than my inhumanity. By qualities that accompany my deplorable nature, the nature of a soulless monster. How such abominable traits could ever have attracted a being as pure as she, will forever be beyond my powers of apprehension.

A fell Irony, indeed.

Far too long have I believed her to be my prey, and I her predator. Only now do I see 'twas the other way round all along. For I am the hunter, hunted and she has captured my dead heart in an ever-binding spell. Alas, it is well known that the hunter cares not for its prey once caught, and for good reason too; I am not, nor will I ever be, good enough to even breathe the same air as she. Just thinking her name feels like blasphemy. You know full well that returning to Forks isn't an option. Your visions of my return are caused by nothing other than my own wishful-thinking. Bella is lost to me now, we should thank goodness for that. She should never have been subjected to the likes of me in the first place. So regardless of you pleas and predictions, I will not return. I will bear this cross, knowing I did the right thing.

So stop! Stop trying to get me to come back, and above all else: stop filling my head with nonsense about Bella not fairing well. I left, therefore she is safe and her life will be all fun and games, no eyes lost.

Knowing that I am in no position to request any favors, I shall try nonetheless. I want to ask if you will try and help me in my quest to find Victoria, so I can smite her. Do you have any inside-information as to her whereabouts?

_With kind affection,_

_Edward_

P.S. Give my love to Esme and whoever else will have it. Also, who is this Darcy-person you speak of? And what's that buzzing sound?

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**From: **ALineedICE_JAZZ _(Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_**_  
_To: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_  
**Sent: **Sunday january 15 2006 20:36:23

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**Subject: **I think you misspelled that

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Dear Captain Overkill,

You know better than to bet against _me_, Edward. Or you used to, anyway. I am telling you the truth! You on the other hand…Liar liar limbs on fire! You have not hunted at all! You'll be such a mess if you keep this up. Just listen to yourself, will you?

Bella, resorting to Ice-packs to ease her loneliness _lifts_ your spirit? I guess you really are losing it...

Poor Bella. The girl is slipping, fast. She's taking the thing, (which, I'll give you that, does have a rather strong jaw and heavyset brow. Don't expect too much though, she's not a very skilled artist,) to school tomorrow. Of course it'll melt, and she'll end up on the parking-lot screaming, _"Oh no! Not you, too! Come back to me! They all leave! Why do they all leave?" _

She'll even try CPR. It's downright painful, eventually they'll call Charlie to come pick her up and from then on she'll be taking random things to bed with her every night and wake up screaming once they've warmed up a bit. As long as they are pale and make for proper head-rests, she just wants a cold 'body' to cuddle up to…

I blame you.

I'll make you a deal, though. I'll tell you what I know about Victoria if you pick up your phone, and call me. Edward, it's just a phone-call. I'd rather come visit, but you won't let me. We need to talk, Edward. _You _need to talk. Not this, this is better than nothing, but it's a poor substitute. You need to really _talk_. Interact. Or else you and Bella will be comparing imaginary friends in no time.

Esme sends her love. Rosalie sent you… well, something else.

_Call me,_

_Alice_

P.S. That email, the one you'll probably send to me anyway, tomorrow morning; try not to.

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_**AN **Thanks for reading! And don't hesitate to leave a review... they drive Edward insane, you know..._


	3. Rhyme, no reason

Whoever you are; You rock!

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**From: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_  
**To:** ALineedICE_JAZZ _(Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_  
**Sent: **Monday january 16 2006 08:56:29

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**Subject: **No rhyme or reason

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Dear Alice,

Okay, so I didn't hunt.

_Yet. _

I will soon enough. I promise. I would have gone last night, but I was wondering what to make of your last email. I don't know why you keep having these visions concerning my Bella, when clearly, they are false. Because it goes without saying that Bella is flourishing now that I no longer threaten her blessed existence.

Now, I was trying to make sense of all this, really I was but -somehow- I wrote a limerick instead. The words just came to me. I know it's about me and my Bella. But I wonder… Do you think it means something more?

_There once was a lass: Isabella,_  
_much loved by an immortal fella'._  
_He left to insure,_  
_that she stay safe and pure._  
_That he loves her still, he'll never tell her._

Fascinating is it not? Perhaps I should be a writer?

_Love,_

_Edward_

P.S. I'm still wondering about that buzzing noise. It is starting to concern me somewhat. After all, it's been three days already. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something?

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From: **ALineedICE_JAZZ** (_Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_  
To: **Cullenary_Delight** _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_  
Sent: Monday january 16 2006 08:56:30

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Subject: Don't make me come over there…

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Dear Edward Lear,

You wrote a limerick instead, huh? Well, that happens to the best of us. In fact, I wrote you a little limerick, too. It just 'came to me' the very moment I had a vision of you, writing yours. Now, I don't have any delusions about it being anywhere near as good. Your powers of turning every-day life (ok, '_life_',) into a Greek tragedy are unsurpassed. (Believe me, I don't foresee any competition for you in the overreaction-department.

_Ever_.)

However, with both your and my limerick describing approximately the same events, I do believe that mine succeeded in getting to the heart of the matter just ever so slightly better than yours. Maybe, if you put the two of them together, you can figure out their combined deeper meaning? I'll leave you to decide for yourself. After all, you're the aspired writer. I call it:_ You have given me, An Epiphany._ So, here goes:

_There once was paranoid man,_  
_he met Bella, and shit hit the fan;_  
_He dazzled her witless,_  
_but love scared him shitless_  
_and being a pussy: he ran_

Enchanting, no? Now, as for things that actually matter: (Don't worry, no more lectures from me tonight, cause… I made you a digital post-it!)

- Don't quit day-job.  
- Pull head out of ass.  
- Remove bumblebee from ear. (don't use finger, **will** make mess!)  
- Call Alice/ Pick up phone when Alice calls pitiable self.

_All my pity,_

_Alice_

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**A/N**: Please spare me a minute to review, and thanks for reading!

**Edward Lear** (12 May 1812 – 29 January 1888) was an English artist, illustrator, author, and poet, renowned today primarily for his literary nonsense, in poetry and prose, and especially his limericks, a form that he popularized.


	4. Stockh, no uhm, Rio Syndrome

**From: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)  
_**To: **ALineedICE_JAZZ _(Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)  
_**Sent:** Wednesday january 18 2006 22:04:13

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**Subject:** Instinct took over.

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Dear sister,

I know you are opposed to me not answering my phone. But it is within my right not to, even if you keep calling it nonstop for two hours straight, until I'm forced to shatter it against a wall. Having a phone delivered to me immediately after that -a phone you will then call for three hours straight like you did earlier today- doesn't change that.

Therefore, your text-message saying: (and I quote)  
_'Edward, you delusional freak, stop assaulting florists or I'll tell Bella what _really_ happened to her bras and panties the day we left Forks! Now pick up your damn phone!' _was uncalled for.

First of all, there's no need for obscenities, they are not very becoming.

Secondly, I was NOT 'assaulting' a florist, as you so eloquently put it. I was merely… enjoying his scent. He had just finished unloading a batch of flowers when the fragrance surrounding him -a delightful mixture of lavender and freesia- had found its way into my nostrils and I was caught off-guard by the overwhelming intensity of it. It was too much. It sang to me. Please understand Alice, it was all I could do not to jump on the next plane and return to my Bella immediately after being reminded of her so vividly. So unexpectedly. I'm sure you realize that I never meant to smell the man's hair. Or lick his fingers.

Or throw him in the back of my truck to savor the aroma.

Besides, what is it to you if I did? Humans keep floral-scented air-fresheners in their cars, too. You know this. So do not worry your pretty little head over it, I'll release him shortly. I wouldn't want him to develop Stockholm-syndrome or anything of that nature. And do not pretend you disapprove, because if you did you would have told me not to kidnap him, _beforehand_. I would have listened to you, just like I did everything else you told me to do. Well, everything except maybe speaking to you over the phone and returning to Forks. But I _have_ hunted and I _did_ remove the bumblebee from my ear.

Thank you for pointing that out, by the way. Although I wish you would have emphasized the part where you said that I should not have used my fingers a little more fervently because now my ear is… well, squelchy. I suppose I could shower.

I suppose.

Lastly, why did you keep calling me? You had to know I wouldn't pick up. Are you loosing your touch?

_Love,_

_Edward_

P.S. How much do you know about those, uhm, undergarments, exactly?

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**From: **ALineedICE_JAZZ (_Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_  
**To: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_  
**Sent: **Wednesday january 18 2006 22:04:14

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**Subject**: Haven't you noticed yet, Edward, that you are just the teeniest bit prone to overreaction?

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Madward,

A few things.

1) Of course I would have told you not to abduct the florist beforehand, if it hadn't been a snap-decision on your part. I simply didn't see it in time. Having said that, a human smelling of flowers doesn't equal a can of air freshener, Martha friggin Stewart! There's a line between buying flowers and ravishing shop owners, and it's not a fine one. And I don't say this because I was worried about him developing Stockholm syndrome in the slightest. I doubt many kidnapping-victims wil develop any type of positive feelings whatsoever, towards a delirious kidnapper with the remains of a squashed insect in his ear. I say this because YOU KIDNAPPED A FLORIST.

Are you crazy?

Please don't answer that.

2) Of course I knew you weren't going to answer any of my calls earlier! Honestly Edward, I wonder about you sometimes. The only reason I kept calling (Well actually, I had Emmett do all the calling. I don't think he'll ever learn never to bet against me.) But anyway, the only reason we've been calling you all day was that the ongoing sound of your ringtone was the only thing annoying enough to keep you from noticing that the florist was making his escape. Although I have to say, I almost let you have him. It took him long enough, geez. And you and him are both lucky that he didn't remember what happened. It should be fine, just make sure never to use that car you kept him from now on.

3) Kidnapping people goes on the _things-not-to-do-ever-again-no-matter-how-insane-I-get-list_ from now on. Okay Edward? I'm telling you, if the man hadn't escaped you already, I just know this would have ended with you being ripped apart by either the Volturi or Rosalie. And that has nothing to do with me being clairvoyant.

4) Another thing, you didn't honestly think that eating the bumblebee you plucked from your ear counts as hunting, did you? I've had it with you. I'm having some TAKE-OUT delivered to your current address. It'll be there in about FIVE MINUTES. It's not exactly mountain lion, (apparently humans don't have those on demand, waiting to be ordered. Not in Rio, anyway.), but beggars can't be choosers. So I hope you'll enjoy 'PALOMA BLANCA'... Oh and, it's important that when the DELIVERY GUY get's there, you act like you're getting MARRIED tomorrow.

5) Shower!

_Vicariously ashamed,_

_Alice_

P.S. Oh right, about the 'undergarments'. Let's just say: That quilt you're holding there, the satin and lace one you call 'Smella', I know it's not made out of _handkerchiefs._  
But don't worry, I won't tell Bella. That would be impossible since... she's missing.

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**A/N** Up next: Jasper joins the madness!


	5. Pots and Kettles

**AN**_-Thanks for the reviews! They keep me going!_

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**From: **ALineedICE_JAZZ (_Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)  
_**To:** Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)  
_**Sent: **Wednesday january 18 2006 - 23:51:48  
**Subject:** Step away from the computer

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Edward Anthony Masen Cullen,

You will not send that email if you know what's good for you. If you do, I will have your cojones and so help me Aro, I will feed them to the vampire-grizzly that I told Emmet not to create.

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**From:** ALineedICE_JAZZ _(Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_  
**To: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_  
**Sent: **Wednesday january 18 2006 - 23:53:16  
**Subject:** Thin ice, veeeery thin ice

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I'm serious

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**From: **ALineedICE_JAZZ_ (Polly-Alice1901 (at) yahoo. com)_**_  
_To: **Cullenary_Delight_ (Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_**_  
_Sent: **Wednesday january 18 2006 - 23:53:41  
**Subject:** While you're still my brother

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Don't do it Edward

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**From: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_**_  
_To: **Jasparagus (_Alice_D_trippin (at) myplace. com)_**_  
_Sent: **Thursday january 18 - 2006 23:56:30  
**Subject:** Alpha Lima India Charlie Echo, has gone off the radar…

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Jasper,

My dear brother. I don't mean to worry you, but I'm afraid your wife is not well.

If I had known the seriousness of her mental state, I would have contacted you sooner. But I misread the signs. When she and I started this correspondence over the digital highway, she was immediately cynical, bitter and sarcastic towards me. For long, I believed that this was her way of punishing me for making her leave Forks, when _I _did. I know that doing so hurt her very much at the time and I figured she deserved to be angry with me, so I let it go.

First, she called me Darcy. Then, she wrote me limericks, and all the while she kept telling me that my Bella was coping poorly with my departure. In hindsight, I don't understand why I didn't recognize it sooner. Only when she claimed that my Bella had gone missing did I see, that something more alarming must be going on with the little pixie. Why else would she tell me such things? Why tell me, that my angel has gone missing? I know for a fact it's not the truth, because _we_ _left Forks_. Therefore, Bella can only be safe. Why then would Alice play with my heart by saying she's gone missing? Venting anger is one thing, but that's just cruel. And I do not know Alice to be cruel.

So the only explanation is, she's nuts.

I'm sure she won't appreciate me telling you this. In fact, she has already sent me more than one email just now, threatening my well-being in case I _would_ notify you. However, I don't think this is like that time when she told me not to tell you that she doesn't like your singing voice. Or that she was the one who broke Esme's Ming-vases even though she let you take the blame for it, or that she thinks my hair looks better than yours.

Or that she sometimes fantasizes about the Newton boy.

This is different, because I don't think she realizes she's not firing on all cylinders. I know you will do all you can to help her.

Now, I'm sorry for having to cut this email short, but I must. Because if I don't take out my paloma blanca's and marry one in five minutes, I can't feed on the delivery boy. Alice made me promise.

_Best wishes,_

_Edward_

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**From: **Jasparagus (_Alice_D_trippin (at) myplace. com_)  
**To: **Cullenary_Delight _(Emo_Edward17_4-life (at) lonelyplanet. com)_  
**Sent: **Thursday january 19 - 2006 00:00:00  
**Subject:** That dog won't hunt

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Eddie,

right now you don't know your butt from a hole in the ground now do ya? You can put your boots in the oven but that don't make 'em Biscuits.

Look, I aint gettin' my straw in your kool-aid 'cause ya know I ain't got no dog in this fight. But I will say you've done it now; You've awoken the frightening little monster. And not only that; you got its knickers in a twist I reckon. She's ill as a hornet, in fact I'd swear her face is going red and her temperature's up. I'm tellin' ya you've gott'n her madder than an old wet hen.

Hide, _fast._

Nice to have known you,

_Jasper_

P.S. Yah Boo sucks

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**A/N** Join team Edward-eats-delivery-boy! A question for next chapter: more Jasper or some Emmett? Any other suggestions are just as welcome.


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